


How to Make New Friends

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Harry navigates a workplace friendship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for HD_fluff's prompt #131: A Kiss at Midnight, Slythindor100's January prompt# 202: New Year/Resolution, and for Enchanted_jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge #131: Celebration.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

How to Make New Friends

~

At first, Harry thought Malfoy was fucking with him. After all, they were supposed to be enemies, right?

But Malfoy wasn’t acting like it. For one thing, he wasn’t scowling at Harry the way he used to, and for another, he started stopping by Harry’s desk at random points during the day just to chat. 

Harry kept expecting to find his stuff had been jinxed or hexed somehow, but it never happened, and after weeks of Malfoy swinging by every day, Harry relaxed. Malfoy would even bring coffee or pastries on occasion.

It was nice to see a friendly face, truth be told. 

Harry had thought accepting a job at Gringotts would make the goblins stop viewing him with such suspicion, but he wrong. They still glared at him when he walked the halls, and there was always one of them discreetly following him at all times, even though he’d worked there several months. 

When Malfoy began acting cordially, however, the goblins backed off. Now they would even let him go to the vaults unobserved, as long as Malfoy went, too. 

“He probably wants something,” Ron said when Harry told him and Hermione how Malfoy was acting. 

“Or maybe he just wants to be friends,” Hermione replied. “Is that so impossible? Harry did speak for him at his trial, after all.” 

Helping himself to more potatoes, Ron shrugged. “If he wants to be friends, it’s only because he has an ulterior motive. He’s still _Malfoy_.” 

“We don’t know him, so we have no idea what he’s thinking. For all we know, he made a New Year’s resolution to be a nice person,” Hermione argued.

“Or to finally get back at Harry.” Ron poured gravy all over his plate. “Can we not discuss him now? I’m trying to eat.” 

Rolling her eyes, Hermione changed the subject, but later, as Harry was preparing to leave, she pulled him aside. “Don’t let Ron’s skepticism dissuade you. It might be good to make friends with Malfoy.” 

Harry smiled. “I dunno if he even wants that, Hermione. We’ll see.” 

She nodded, pulling him into a hug. “Yes, I suppose we will. See you next week.” 

As the weeks passed, Harry started doing nice things for Malfoy, too. One day he’d bring him shortbread, and another, he left a box of chocolates on his desk. When Malfoy had come to see him later, his fingers and mouth smeared with chocolate, Harry had explained it away by saying he’d been at Honeydukes for Teddy anyway, but something about the way Malfoy looked at him let him know he saw through that excuse. 

“So now you’re buying him presents?” Ron asked.

“I’m just being cordial,” Harry said. “Honestly, it’s not a big deal.” 

Ron and Hermione exchanged one of their infuriating speaking looks. 

“What?” Harry snapped. 

Ron cleared his throat, his eyes avoiding Harry’s, while Hermione shook her head. “Nothing. I think it’s lovely to see you getting along so well with him. So, did you have a good week at Gringotts?”

And so it went, until Malfoy invited him for a celebration drink with him and his friends after work. When Harry asked what they were celebrating, Malfoy simply smirked and said, “The weekend.” 

Harry, hesitant, went anyway, and, against all expectations, had a fun evening. 

Goyle, Zabini, Bulstrode, and Parkinson were there. After greeting everyone cordially, Harry ended up next to Parkinson, who, it turned out, had a wicked sense of humour. She offered a stilted apology, which Harry accepted easily, explaining he’d long forgiven her, and after that everything was fine. Of course, the alcohol helped, as did Malfoy’s presence at his other side. All in all, the evening wasn’t nearly as awkward as Harry’d feared. Malfoy even paid for Harry’s drinks, which was decent of him. 

When Harry said he should be leaving, and Malfoy offered to go wth him, Harry thought nothing of it. He was a bit pissed, so having company to ensure he didn’t walk into Muggle traffic or inadvertently splinch himself was probably a good idea. 

At Harry’s door, Malfoy seemed expectant, nervous even. 

Harry cleared his throat. “Thanks for walking me home, Malfoy.” 

“You’re welcome.” For a long moment Malfoy’s eyes seemed glued to Harry’s mouth. Finally, he smirked. “It’s midnight.”

Blinking, Harry looked over at the clock tower that was just visible. “You’re right.” He smiled. “I didn’t think we’d out this late! Good thing we don’t have work tomorrow.” 

“Why do you think I planned it this way?” Malfoy murmured, leaning in. “I do love a good, long lie-in on the weekends. Do you?” 

“I guess.” Harry shrugged.

Malfoy hummed. “Good, I’m glad we agree.” 

“Okay—” Harry gasped as Malfoy pressed his mouth to his. 

Malfoy, taking immediate advantage, slipped his tongue inside Harry’s mouth, and began to explore all the moist surfaces. His arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, and as he pressed his body close, Harry could feel his erection against his thigh. 

Explosions of pleasure were going off in Harry’s body, but his brain was screaming at him. After initially relaxing, Harry started to push away, finally managing to thrust himself out of Malfoy’s arms. “What…What the fuck was that?” he gasped, chest heaving. 

Malfoy glared at him. “What do you mean? You can’t be that thick.” He raised an eyebrow. “That was a kiss, Potter. Surely you’re familiar?” 

Harry shook his head. “Yes, but I mean, why are you kissing me?”

“You…I thought you were— You mean you’re not—” Malfoy’s eyes went big. “Fuck.” 

Harry licked his lips. “I’m not…I like _girls_ , Malfoy!” 

Malfoy stepped back as if he’d been slapped. “Then why have you been flirting with me at work and bringing me sodding biscuits and chocolate?” he spat. “And why did you agree to come on a date with me tonight?” 

“Date?” Harry swallowed hard. “I didn’t think it was a date. I thought we were just two blokes going out for a pint.” He crossed his arms. “You usually bring your friends with you on dates?” 

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he snapped out, tone clipped. “I do not. But I thought, that since there’s been bad blood between you and my best friend, this would be the best way to heal that breach.” 

“Oh.” Harry exhaled, his mind whirling. “I didn’t know.” 

“I see that now.” Malfoy’s face was an impenetrable mask. “Apologies for the unwanted advances, Potter. I should be going.” 

“Malfoy, wait!” Harry cried as Malfoy spun on his heel and started to briskly walk away. 

Malfoy paused, his back still to Harry. “What?” 

“I…I still want us to be friends. I mean, this won’t interfere with that, will it?” 

Malfoy spun, his expression incredulous. “Potter, you’re a piece of work, you know that? Will this interfere?” His laugh was dark. “No, not at all.” Rolling his eyes, he drew his wand. “Goodnight, Potter.” 

After Malfoy had Disapparated, Harry let himself into his house, his head spinning. Pressing his fingers against his lips, he sighed. Had he made a mistake?

* * *

“He kissed you?” Hermione sipped her tea, looking unsurprised. “And, how was it?” 

Harry blinked. “Er, not what I thought you were going to say, actually.” He looked at Ron, who was making a face, but who seemed equally unsurprised. “You’re not surprised. Why are you not surprised?” 

Ron cleared his throat and, after shooting Hermione a look, said, “You’re sort of been courting each other for weeks, mate. Why would we be surprised?” 

“Courting?” Harry set down his cup. “”What? When? How?” 

“All those gifts, and the stopping by to chat with each other at your desks, and the flirting.” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “What did you think you were doing?” 

“Making a new friend!” 

“And that’s all?” Hermione sighed. “Harry, when was the last time you brought either of us a gift?” 

“Your birthday.” Harry blinked. “Well, but this is different! I work with him, I see him every day!” 

“You see us every week,” Ron said. 

“So I should bring you weekly presents?” 

“Not where we were going with that,” said Hermione. “Just…how do you feel about Malfoy?” 

“Well, I like him. I mean he’s a snarky git, but he’s really witty, and funny, and I like seeing him every day. I mean, it feels weird when I don’t see him, and fuck, I’m courting him, aren’t I?” Resting his forehead on the table, Harry thunked it a few times. “I’m a fucking idiot.” 

“I take it you rejected his advance?” Hermione asked. 

Miserable, Harry nodded. 

“What did you tell him?” Ron asked. 

“That I liked girls! Fuck.” 

“Harry, when was the last time you even dated a girl?” Hermione asked. 

Harry sighed. “A year ago. Yes, Hermione, I’m aware I’m an idiot. But in my defence, I was drunk, and I wasn’t flying on all bristles.”

“That’s for sure,” muttered Ron. 

“You’re not helping, Ron,” said Hermione. “Harry, you need to talk to Malfoy, and soon! If you let this go without explanation, he’s going to put up a wall that’ll be impossible to scale.”

“All right,” Harry agreed. “But what do I say to him? And I don’t know where he lives.” 

Hermione exhaled. “You tell him that you weren’t thinking straight.” 

“Or that you were thinking too straight,” Ron chortled. 

Harry groaned, raising his head. “That was awful.”

“Agreed.” Hermione glared at Ron. “And as for the other, I have an idea.” 

The smile slid off Ron’s face. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Okay I’m listening.” 

Hermione smirked at Ron. “You have friends who work for the Aurors, and who can get you the address of one Draco Malfoy with very little trouble.” 

Ron’s mouth fell open. “I can’t do that! It’s…misuse of justice. Or something.” 

“Harry,” Hermione said, her eyes still trained on Ron. “If you do somehow manage to get Malfoy’s address, you won’t let on how you obtained it, will you?” 

Harry shook his head. Glancing at Ron, he saw a gobsmacked look on his face. “Nope.” 

“Hermione, I _can’t_!” 

“Weren’t you the one who said only last week, and I quote, ‘Harry really needs to get some, or he’s going to forget how to use it’?” Hermione asked. 

“I didn’t mean he should use it on Malfoy!” Ron cried. 

“He should use it on whomever he likes!” 

Harry cleared his throat. “ _He’s_ right here and doesn’t appreciate this discussion of who he, I mean I, should use his…it…my stuff on!” Harry flushed as they both looked at him. “And if you can’t get me Malfoy’s address, Ron, I can see if I can break into Gringotts again to get it there. I’m sure they’ll understand.” 

Ron groaned. “And lose your job? Are you mad? They’re just looking for a reason to sack you!” Heaving a sigh, he stood up. “Give me twenty minutes,” he said, and, striding towards the Floo, he left in a flare of green flame. 

Hermione sat back in her chair. “So, how was kissing Malfoy? Better than ‘wet’, I hope?” 

Harry laughed. “Much better.”

* * *

An hour later, Harry was standing in front of a nondescript door in Kensington. Checking the address again, he raised his fist and knocked. 

There was silence that was finally broken by the click of high heels on wooden floors. The door swung open. “…about time you got here! We’re almost out of vodka—” Parkinson’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. 

“Who is it, Pansy?” called Malfoy.

“Not sure yet,” Pansy yelled back and, stepping out, closed the door behind her. “Why are you here?” 

Harry stepped back from the fierce look in her eyes. “I need to talk to Malfoy.” 

“About?” She raised an eyebrow. “You should know, Potter, Saviour or no, I know ways to hurt you that no one will ever be able to trace back to me. And I’m aware of what happened last night. So, I repeat. What are you here to see Draco about?” 

Harry sighed. “I’m here to apologise.” 

“And?” 

“Who says there’s anything else?” 

Parkinson rolled her eyes. “You could have sent an owl. Now stop wasting my time. Why are you really here?” 

Godric but she would make a great interrogator. “I’m here to see if Malfoy will forgive me for the mistake I made last night.” She opened her mouth and Harry hurriedly continued, “And to see if he’d be willing to give me another chance.” 

Parkinson’s expression didn’t soften a hair. “So, to be clear, you admit you made a mistake, and you’re here to grovel and beg for forgiveness?” 

Harry gritted his teeth. “Yes.” 

Inclining her head, Parkinson reached behind her, opening the door. “You have one shot. And, Potter? If you screw this up, there is no place on this earth you will be safe, do we understand each other?” 

Cowed, Harry nodded. 

Spinning around, Parkinson stepped inside and, hesitantly, Harry followed. “Draco, darling, you have a visitor. It’s someone who I think you’ll want to see. I need to go, but if you need me, I’m a Floo call away.” 

“Who is it?” came Malfoy’s voice. “Did Blaise finally show up with more alcohol?” 

Parkinson glanced at Harry. “Not exactly. I’ll Floo him. Something tells me you’ll be too busy to deal with him tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, darling.” And, Summoning her purse, Parkinson matched out the door. 

“What the fuck, Pansy? That was abrupt—” Malfoy rounded the corner, freezing when he saw Harry. He looked…amazing, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his collar undone to reveal the hollow of his throat. He was even barefoot. 

Harry’s mouth went dry. How the hell had he ever thought he was straight? “Er, hello.” 

Malfoy scowled. “I am going to fucking kill her. I can’t believe she just let you in!” 

Harry sighed. “In her defence, she did threaten me with death and dismemberment before she did it.” 

“Did she?” A fleeting smile crossed Malfoy’s face. “Good.” Turning away, he left Harry in the hallway. 

Harry followed, walking into a living room filled with comfortable-looking furniture, beautifully decorated in hues of beige and brown with pops of blue. 

Malfoy had already settled in a chair and was sipping something from a martini glass. “I’d offer you something to drink,” he said. “But I’m almost out, and I need it more than you.” 

Harry sat in the chair across from him. “Malfoy, I’d like to apologise.”

Malfoy eyed Harry over top of his glass. “Would you?” he sneered. He huffed. “Fine. Do it and get out.” 

“Malfoy.” Harry paused. “ _Draco_ ,” he continued, “I’m so sorry. I just…I didn’t know, all right?”

Draco’s cold expression couldn’t hide the wounded look in his eyes. “You mean you didn’t know I was gay?” he asked. “Yes, you made that quite obvious last night. I imagine you and your friends had a good laugh about it, too.” 

“No, actually,” Harry said, staring at him. “They laughed at me for being an idiot.” 

Draco blinked. “Even Weasley?” 

“Especially him.” Harry exhaled. “And that wasn’t what I didn’t know. I didn’t know—”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t know _I_ was gay.” Harry hung his head. “I know it sounds stupid, but with the war and…everything, it just never occurred to me that I wouldn’t settle down with some girl someday.” 

“You still can,” drawled Draco. “You can ignore that side of yourself, remain a closeted wizard, have your perfect life.” 

“Only I don't think my perfect life includes that anymore.” Harry looked up, piercing Draco with his gaze. “You changed all that when you kissed me.” 

“Oh?” Draco’s voice wobbled. 

“Yup.” Harry smiled tentatively. “When you kissed me, my world…changed.” 

Draco narrowed his eyes. “And they call us the dramatic ones.” 

“I’m serious.” 

Draco stared at him for a long moment before standing up. Setting down his almost empty glass, he shook his head. “I can’t do this like this,” he said, and he walked out of the room. 

Harry’s heart dropped. “Draco, please—”

In the distance he heard a door shut and, moaning, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He’d failed. “Fuck,” he muttered after about a minute. 

“We’ll discuss that in a moment,” said Draco. 

Eyes popping open, Harry sat up to see Draco standing there, a small potion phial in his hand. “Wha—”

“I’m too drunk for this conversation,” Draco said, downing the potion. He grimaced and shuddered. “There.” Eyes sharp, he watched Harry carefully. “Now, would you repeat what you said?” 

“Which part?” Harry asked. 

Draco glided closer until he was standing directly in front of Harry. Leaning down, he placed his hands on the chair’s arms. “About your world changing,” he murmured. 

Harry’s mouth went dry. “It..it did,” he said. 

Draco’s eyebrow went up. “In a…good way?” 

“In a very good way,” Harry breathed.

“Hm.” Draco hummed. “No urge to kiss girls, then?” 

“Not right now,” Harry said, trembling. He swallowed hard. “Look, Draco, I’m dying here. Are you going to—?”

“Yes,” said Draco, and sealing their lips together, he crawled into the chair with Harry, straddling his hips. 

This time, Harry kissed him back with everything he had, and he felt it the moment Draco let himself go and committed to the kiss. 

As Draco’s tongue stroked inside his mouth, Harry moaned, throwing his arms around Draco’s neck and pressing closer. Draco’s hands roamed up and down Harry’s back. 

When their mouths separated, Harry was panting. Draco began kissing his jaw, alternating strong sucks and scraping his teeth over the column of Harry’s neck. 

Shivering, Harry let his head fall back. “Fuck,” he whispered. He hadn’t felt anything like this when Cho, or even Ginny, had kissed him. His body was buzzing, his cock swollen and hard, his head spinning, and when Draco drew back to whisper something, he gasped as their clothes disappeared. 

Harry went still. 

Draco sighed, pulling back. “Are you okay?” 

Harry nodded. “I just…I’ve never—”

Draco’s expression softened. “I know. You only realised you were gay yesterday.” He cupped Harry’s face with his hand. “But I’d like to make you feel good. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” Harry said without hesitation. 

Draco’s smile was wicked. “Good,” and sliding down Harry’s body, he knelt between his legs and, casting a smirk up at Harry, licked the very tip of his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” Harry breathed, his hands tightening on the arms of the chair. 

Draco hummed, his mouth stretching obscenely around Harry’s cock as he moved down. The sight of him engulfing Harry was mesmerising, and Harry’s breath stuttered as Draco continued to swallow him, sliding up and down his cock until it was hitting the back of his throat. Harry’s hips ached to move, but he fisted the upholstery to stop himself. 

Draco pulled off, his lips glistening. “Fuck my mouth,” he rasped. “I know you want to.” 

When he again took Harry in his mouth, Harry was lost. With a wail, he let go of the chair, burying his hands in Draco’s hair and thrusting his hips sharply forward. 

Draco made an approving noise in the back of this throat, and as the vibrations moved up Harry’s cock, Harry lost all control. Arching his back, he began thrusting hard, started fucking Draco’s mouth in earnest. 

Adjusting easily, Draco simply closed his eyes and took it, relaxing his throat so that Harry was going deep, almost bottoming out as he used Draco’s mouth. It was sublime, and all too soon, Harry felt his balls drawing up. 

“Coming,” he gasped, trying his best to pull out. 

Draco simply followed him, and when Harry started coming, pleasure rolling over him in sweeping waves, he swallowed all Harry had to give, sucking until Harry collapsed, panting. 

Oversensitised, Harry whimpered as Draco’s tongue swirled around his softening cock. Draco pulled off immediately, sitting back on his haunches and licking his lips. 

Harry stared at him. “Fucking hell.” 

Draco smirked, licking a glob of white off the corner of his mouth. His come, Harry realised with a start, and, impossibly, his cock tried to stir. Draco, with his face right there, didn’t miss it. His smirk deepened. “That was just the start of what I want to do with you, Potter.” Gracefully unfolding himself from the floor, Draco stood there unabashedly naked and aroused. “So, are you staying? Or are you going home?” 

Harry smiled. He had been a bit nervous, but now he just felt turned on and, well, eager to learn more. “I’m staying,” he said. “It would be rude to leave you to deal with that by yourself.” He nodded at Draco’s erection and grinned. “Plus, I have no clothes.” 

Draco laughed. “Point.” He held out his hand. “The Slytherin thing to do would be to not return them until I’m…satisfied.” 

Laughing along with him, Harry took his hand and stood. “Seems fair to me,” he said, and as they meandered towards Draco’s bedroom, kissing along the way, he decided Draco was _definitely_ fucking with him. And he was absolutely fine with that.

~


End file.
